Small Olga.
Smolga.
I didn't stare; it would be weird considering that she didn't actually know me here. However, the urge to give her head pats was powerful.
It took substantial self-restraint, but I held back.
God, how old is she? Ten, eleven?
Fucking adorable.
Though she did notice me glance her way. I don't think she recognized me—in that she didn't recognize my identity here.
I'm not arrogant enough to assume everyone in this magical community should recognize me by sight alone. I haven't made that many appearances, even if they've all been sort of…loud, proverbially speaking.
Regardless, there's no need to rush into any awkward situations.
We found our own seats, not far away from the entrance. It seemed like everyone was conglomerating to this first train car for now, so I was happy to do so as well.
I was excited!
This felt like more of a vacation than the 'actual vacation' I just had. Which…if I'm being honest, it was basically just me screwing around without any real plans and just letting things unfold as they were.
Which, considering all the responsibilities I currently have, is a certain kind of break.
But now I'm on a very expensive and upscale magical train with all the amenities that one would expect.
How could I not be happy?
I love trains, and it's a magical train.
I wonder if I could ask to 'drive' it?
And I'm pretty sure that Salem and Venelana noticed my excitement due to the looks they were giving me. However, they were both taking in the surroundings and guests too. Albeit politely, of course. Both of them had the decorum and sense of mind not to unintentionally commit a faux pas.
Salem, who had been a queen and basically nobility her entire life. Even if she spent an uncountable number of years in isolation, certain behaviors were ingrained.
And obviously, there wasn't much of a need to mention Venelana. She lived in Devil Society as a duchess, going from one of the most noble houses to another when she got married. And I could only imagine the petty political power scabbles she had to deal with in her time in Devil society.
Suffice to say, both of them know how to handle themselves without needing me to give them reminders.
Shit, they could probably tell me how to behave properly here.
Though, truthfully, my fucks to give were low when it came to the games that Magi play between themselves.
Politics in general too.
How much effort I put in or how much respect I give them usually correlates precisely to how much someone I care about is affected. Granted, every now and then, I do get in the mood to play some games too.
Maybe I'm a hypocrite there, but whatever.
For now, no one made any moves to talk to other groups.
Beyond Olga, there were of course others in the train car, perhaps in other places of the train too.
There was a gentleman that had an elephant head. There was a man in an Arabic thobe, and I couldn't quite make out his face from the angle.
Several people whom I also didn't recognize, but their clothing was rather normal, and there wasn't much I could point out about them.
Let's see, a dark-skinned gentleman with…huh, were those magic tattoos on his face? Neat.
An older woman with over-the-top expensive clothing that just rounded out into something distasteful.
A major reason right there as to why I'm a proponent of elegance in simplicity.
Does she really need to wear a pink furred scarf like that? It's just tacky and adds nothing other than showing off her wealth. It must cost at least ten thousand if my estimations are right. Ugh, and she had a mundane ring on every finger, two on some fingers.
Huh, I noticed another young woman, long black hair, white clothes, pale skin.
A ghost, huh? Well, not a 'ghost ghost,' but certainly a type of ghostly being.
How fun.
Would it be rude if I tried to exorcise her?
A newcomer stepped into the cabin, and all eyes briefly glanced her way. She was wearing a heavy hood and robe with an accompanying veil over her face.
Something was off about her; something was very off about her. I could feel it deep in my soul, and I even felt Ddraig stir unconsciously. I couldn't see any of her features; her cloak was enchanted to prevent that, obscuring anything that wasn't blatantly on display.
Only her green eyes met mine, and she stared at me for a moment.
I didn't back down from her gaze and met it from my end.
…why did she elicit a sense of familiarity and danger?
Blocked from her view, I hiddenly used a finger to draw out faint words on the table for Salem to see.
'Make a scene.'
"How long do you intend to stare at another man?" Salem spoke up, threatening the strange woman.
All eyes in the car, they were being polite before, holding off on 'staring,' but now that Salem made an actual scene, that sense of propriety was thrown out the window.
However, the woman didn't react in any meaningful way. She threw an inquisitive look towards Salem, but her expression was still rather…blank. She simply turned and found a seat far off opposite us, as if wanting to put distance between us, with her back facing us.
Salem tapped the table, and I noticed the spells she put up in quick succession. "How was that?"
"Good job." I smiled. "Sorry for asking you to do that."
"It was a small matter." Salem waved dismissively.
"Who was that?" Venelana asked. "Someone you know?"
"No idea, honestly. But for some reason I'm on edge around her, and I wanted to know why."
"You wanted to see if you could get more information or cause her to reveal herself, hmm?" Venelana picked up immediately. "It's a rather old trick, unlikely to have worked."
"I know, but it was worth a shot." I shrugged. "You never know, and it was minimal effort." I paused for a moment, looking at Salem. "Your 'man,' huh?"
Salem huffed, crossing her arms. "Shut up, I was just playing my part."
Venalana giggled, and I had to hold myself back from chuckling.
"She seems dangerous." Salem rolled her eyes at us. "I've seldom met someone who I felt was my peer at merely a glance."
"I wasn't just imagining it then." I hummed thoughtfully. "Venelana, please be careful if we ever get separated."
Venelana's eyes softened. "I know how to handle myself, dear. You don't survive a war with Heaven and Hell without knowing a few things."
"I know, you're definitely not weak; I didn't mean to make it sound coddling. I meant it in the vein that I know you're not a magician and don't pay attention to this sort of thing." I reached out and grabbed her hand. "I just worry about someone pulling a nasty trick."
Venelana hummed to herself. "Salem, how comprehensive is this spell you cast to hide us temporarily?"
"To everyone else, they can neither hear us nor see what we're doing; we just look like we're sitting here until someone tries to break through forcibly. I would most likely notice." She replied.
Without another word, Venelana leaned over the table, grabbed my tie, and pulled me in for a deep kiss.
I admit, I was tempted to throw her onto the table, but such thoughts were pushed away for later.
She gave me that mix of a maternal smile combined with a hint of sensual undertone that sent goosebumps down my back. "I can handle myself, but I do appreciate your concern."
I nodded, understanding without her needing to hit me over the head with it. She is a grown adult, older than I am, obviously; she didn't need me breathing down her neck. It was her polite and affectionate way of saying, 'Thank you for the concern, but don't treat me like a child,' without either of us offending the other person.
Communication is important.
I don't understand it. I couldn't see how she and my biological grandfather 'grew apart.' She's everything you could ever want in a woman; I know I'll never be able to let her go.
His loss.
Anyways, game face back up. "You can take the spell down now."
Salem didn't say a word and just tapped the table, undoing her spell. I seriously admired her silent and nearly instantaneous and almost completely unexpressive way she cast spells. I like to think I'm a fairly deft hand at it as well, but even when I try my best to be stealthy, I still have tells.
Salem could quite literally sit there, unmoving, unspeaking, and actualize a spell without a single microexpression.
Ah! I caught Olga's eye.
She was looking my way now, more than just a cautionary glance. I met her gaze and gave her a friendly smile and little wave.
She silently furrowed her brow, and I held up a hand, dropping my rather dashing hat onto the table. There was the slightest hint of a startle from her at my blatant display of magecraft, but now I obviously had her full attention.
Were others looking my way? I didn't really care.
I reached into my hat, my arm disappeared fully up to my elbow, and I pulled out Sir Wiggles.
Her eyes widened, and I think, for the briefest of moments, I saw the phantom of a smile pulling at her lips before she forced it back down.
Though, Sir Wiggles seemed to have decided by himself to jump off the table and fly right into her arms.
It was met with a surprised and cute squeak from her as she unconsciously held him, almost panicking once she realized what was going on.
It caused enough of a commotion that everyone was now looking her way, and she immediately became flustered.
Her aide, a woman with a very stern disposition, plucked Sir Wiggles out from her arms and held it up with a not-so-happy gaze sent my way.
I silently chuckled, and Sir Wiggles escaped from her grip and jumped back towards me and dove right back into my hat.
Smolga was shooting me 'angry glares' now, as if she were trying to decide if she needed to be angry or not.
Before she could say anything, though, more people arrived, and a certain pressure descended upon the train car.
Clad in the attire of priests and servants of God, the Church had arrived.
They climbed on board as if they owned the train, completely uncaring of the killing intent they were emitting as they looked at everyone here as if they were an enemy. A bunch of psycho killers—I could tell that much at a glance. Frankly, what separates a lot of Church Executors and Enforcers of the Clock Tower? One side claims the moral high ground when they do shady shit.
To be honest, Enforcers are more trustworthy. You know where they stand; they'll rarely try to screw someone else over if they're on an assignment. Because then that blows back on the ones who hired them, and the loss of prestige is often significant enough to curtail that sort of thing. Of course that doesn't mean anything with freelancers.
However, compared to Executors, well…you could get along well with an Executor, taking out some Dead Apostles, and as soon as the mission is over, you might literally find a knife in your back.
Dead Apostles are usually only a step or two above the 'heretical' nature of a Magus in most Executors's eyes.
Suffice to say, the balance between the working relationship the Mages Association and the Church have and the hostility between them is…delicate.
As soon as they stepped on board, they intentionally stirred everything up. They stood there, not actually doing anything, but they were also intentionally provoking everyone in the train car.
I'm sure they were told to be on their best behavior, and they needed a 'reason' to be aggressive or heavy-handed.
It wasn't really hard to project one's presence for people like this. It's almost like letting out one's spiritual pressure, but less spiritual and more about asserting one's presence to the surroundings. A mix of magical energy and bloodlust often does it.
One by one, the group of church people seemed to sweep across the car train. It seemed like everyone here wasn't surprised by their 'sudden appearance' due to the rumors, and no one was jumping at the provocation even if they were unhappy.
That is, until they looked towards Olga's corner and seemed to narrow in on her.
I could see the slight shiver down her spine as that concentrated bloodlust descended on her. I didn't know if Olga was about to say or do something or if her assistant/minder would in her place, but I didn't want her to take the bait.
And besides, I was…annoyed.
Olga held a certain spot in my heart, and I didn't want to see her suffer, even in a small capacity.
I let my spiritual pressure out, and it descended upon them.
Immediately, the train car creaked as their bodies stiffened. I didn't push out too much, just enough for them to feel it and for them to know.
"Stop trying to pick a fight." I said softly, but absent of any other sound, everyone in the train car heard my voice. "Either behave yourselves or leave; those are your choices." I reeled my Spiritual Pressure back in, and it was like an invisible weight was lifted from the train car.
Oh, they were pissed.
Honestly, I thought one of them was going to throw a Black Key at me immediately, but right as someone else stepped up onto the train, they all froze.
Blue hair, looks like a teenage girl, gives off a dangerous feeling.
I recognized her. One of the strongest members of the Church's Burial Agency is Ciel.
I could recall her from my inherited memories because of her status. One of the most genuine 'immortal' beings in this world. In fact, she literally cannot die while she's still connected to the planet. The World will literally rewind time to undo anything that happens to her. This all stems from her connection to that Dead Apostle Roa, who keeps reincarnating.
If I recall correctly, she was supposed to be one of his 'reincarnations,' and since her soul basically says, 'This is Roa,' and the real Roa continuously reincarnates and can't die for some reason, she too can't die.
That logic keeps the world from allowing a paradox where 'Roa can't die, yet Roa dies.'
But that's a whole mess that has nothing to do with me, and I'm not privy to all the minute details.
She barely spared a glance at the Church Executors but then looked at me with an evaluating gaze.
Lots of visual standoffs today, it seems.
But that's just how this world works. Show an iota of weakness, and everyone around you will pounce.
"Stop causing trouble and sit down." The girl spoke to them, seemingly uncaring that they were 'embarrassed.'
Actually, I vaguely recall that she didn't even like the Church. She was sort of pressed-ganged into becoming a member and accepting it for her own revenge.
Well, they followed her orders, albeit begrudgingly, and found their seats in the far-off corner away from any 'heretics.'
If the Church sent out Ciel, they must really put a lot of importance on this supposed Mystic Eyes of Providence.
I kind of really want it now, even if it's just to fuck over the Church.
It didn't take long for the next person to arrive.
Another priest—or rather, another executor. He was an older man with a scar over his right eye. He stepped on the train, pausing as he looked towards the group from the church. There was a strange tension between them before the newcomer found his own seat a bit away.
Huh, he's not with that, curious.
It was like the floodgates opened and all the remaining people arrived.
Luvia Edelfelt swaggered right in, uncaring about the tension in the train car, looking very sure of herself. She glanced at all the faces, seemingly noting them, then she saw me, and her eyes widened briefly, but she didn't make a sound.
A Japanese woman followed after her; she seemed somewhat familiar, if vaguely. She also seemed to recognize me but, likewise, didn't make a commotion and found her own seat.
Lastly, and most noisily, another group arrived. They seemingly weren't prepared for what they stepped into because their idle chitchat abruptly ceased as they realized the situation.
I raised an eyebrow as I recognized the man in the front.
One, Waver Velvet, also known as Lord El-Melloi II, having taken over the acting role of Lord of the Mineralogy Department in the Clock Tower.
With him was a young man in glasses that I also recognized. At least, a different version of him. I recall him being the Master of Frankenstein from the Yggdamillennia family back during my own Grail War. His sister was the master of Chiron, for whose legs I healed.
There was also a pink-haired girl with an eyepatch that I had no memory of. And following behind Waver was that girl I had completely forgotten about.
The girl who shared a face with Artoria.
I remember that Artoria mentioned it before, saying that we would talk about it later, but that seemed to slip away during all the chaos the past few months.
Waver also asked during the party before to not mention the connection, so there's obviously a history there that I shouldn't poke at.
Waver noticed me immediately as he scanned the room. As if deciding I was the most important, he walked over. "Lord Schweinorg, It's a pleasant surprise to see you here." His voice wasn't particularly loud, but once again, the train car was nearly silent.
Everyone was busy taking each other's measure, silently scoping out competition or threats, and Waver just waltzed over and greeted me.
I smiled. "Waver Velvet, it's always nice to see you. Gramps asked me to take a look, so I figured I'd treat it as a nice vacation."
Ah yes, many people now seem to know my identity; how comical their expressions shift so erratically.
Waver looked…relieved? He was definitely relieved that I expressed good intentions his way. I sometimes forget the weight behind my name due to Gramps here. Back in my birth world, I stand on my own two feet due to my own actions.
It's a strange but fun dynamic here otherwise.
"And Lady Salem." Waver continued. "It's a pleasure to see you once more."
Salem smiled too, and it was more genuine. She genuinely liked interacting with the magical and cutthroat society here. "Lord El-Melloi II, was it? I remember you."
"Then it's my honor for you to remember me." Waver carried on her words easily and fluidly before turning to Venelana. "I do not believe I've had the pleasure to meet your acquaintance, my lady."
"How polite." Venelana chuckled. "I'm Venelana Gremory; it's a pleasure to meet you, Lord El-Melloi II." She acclimated to the titles quickly as if it were second nature.
Waver raised an eyebrow. "A curious family name, Lady Gremory."
"Curious indeed." Venelana responded playfully. "And who are these young ones with you?"
"Please allow me to introduce my students. This is Caules Forvedge." He gestured to the one with the glasses. Huh, I guess his name isn't Yggdmillennia in this world-line. There was also something…off about him that I couldn't put my finger on. Oh well, none of my concern. "And this is Yvette L. Lehrman – "
"I'm Waver's mistress!" The girl with pink hair declared loudly, holding up a peace sign.
Waved, he brought his palm up to his face. "Yvette, this isn't the place for your games."
"But I'm sincere!" She didn't even hesitate.
"Oh my." Venelana covered her mouth. "I'll cheer you on, dear."
Yvette's eyes sparkled. "Thank you, I'll work hard!"
Waver let out a sigh. "And you've met my apprentice, Gray." He gestured to the one wearing Artoria's face under the hood, who stood behind Waver shyly.
Salem and Venelana, of course, noticed the similarities, and they glanced at me, but I silently shook my head, indicating for them not to mention it.
Waver looked like he was about to say something else, but the front cabin door slid open and a woman wearing a blindfold walked in, flanked by the conductor that we met at the entrance to the train.
"Lord Schweinorg, I would be thrilled to speak at a later time." Waver spoke, and I knew what was coming.
I gestured for him to proceed; he wanted 'permission' to seat himself and leave our 'conversation' without being rude, as it was clear something was happening.
It only took them a moment to find their own seats, and the eyes on us turned to look at the ones at the front.
"Good afternoon, everyone." The woman spoke. "I'm Leandra, and I'll be conducting the auction this time." She paused, letting the words set in. "The auction will take place on the third day, as stated on your invitation cards. However, if there are any…..incidents – " She turned to look at the church people. Even if no one could see her eyes, it was clear she was glaring at them. "-- the auction may be postponed or cancelled altogether. I hope you all remember that."
Considering they have no idea where these supposed Mystic Eyes are, the Church people would probably heed that warning.
"Your room numbers are on your invitation card, and the keys will be waiting inside. You're welcome to ward your room however you please, but bear in mind any damage to the train will be charged to you. The Engine Room is strictly off limits, and anyone who wanders in will suffer a horrific death."
Ah, there go my hopes and dreams, dashed before I even had a chance. Maybe it's something I can still convince them of. I have a great many things I'm sure they would like to trade.
"The second day will hold the traditional guest auction. Please keep in mind that we do not guarantee any goods bought or traded during this time, so proceed at your own risk. However – " She smirked slightly. "-- for a small fee, our services may be…acquired. For now, please enjoy yourselves; the amenities are fully open to all our guests free of charge. Thank you." She unceremoniously turned around with the conductor and left.
Well, this is looking to be a rather interesting three days.
I took out the invitation and looked it over, finding our room number. "Shall we go see our room?"
I'm sure it'll be a nice and peaceful train ride with nothing strange happening.
[Line Break]
A/N
If you want to read 10 chapters ahead or support me, visit my p.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m / astoryforone
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